[center][h1]Changing Times - Part 2[/h1][/center]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/WIEIa4Z.jpg[/img]

[i]When the tribes left us, we had nowhere to go. So we formed our own tribe, a band of outcasts with a common goal. Little did we know that only our names would be remembered for the eons at the time, and we set out with dread weighing heavy on us, but the spirit of freedom keeping us moving forward. None of us really knew what it was that we were searching, but that was soon about to change when we made the first, and perhaps most important discovery of our millennia long journey...[/i]

- Forgotten Mural Site

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[i]In the forests of the Adarnians~[/i]

One encounter with the Triachs was clearly not enough for fate. Laying in wait, pairs of eyes followed every movement that the hunting parties of the tall Adarnians made all over the forest. Waiting for the right moment to strike, a moment that came once the hunting parties had left the village for a day. Then suddenly, roars and thunderous battlecries emitted from the bushes around the perimeter of the shacks the Adarnians used as a home and about a dozen small creatures with an ugly face and a green skin rushed towards the Adarnians left in the village, carrying spears in their hands that they flailed around menacingly. Their eyes were bloodshot and their angry shouting and grunting was clearly a sign of their ill intent as they approached the village as fast as their tiny legs allowed. This would not be resolved peacefully...

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[i]On the plains of the humans~[/i]

The weather was fair, and a cool breeze from the mountains. Fish were plenty and the bushes were ripe with berries and nuts that the gatherers could pick. Game was easy to catch and fat in the forest, making for an efficient hunting for the inhabitants of the human villages. Herds of Striders were curiously watching the humans as they went about the daily business, sometime letting out a few loud "squawks" if someone got to close to them. But as the day progressed, more and more reports of shady figures began to appear from gatherers and hunters all over the region. Tall, mysterious figures that would disappear without a trace whenever people began to approach them. Most of these tales came from areas closer to the north-eastern side of their territory, but some have told about similar findings from all the way at the river's source. Whatever it was, the more and more people saw these figures from the distance, the less likely it was that people were just imagining things.

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[i]In the rivers of the Merdhrai~[/i]

The night of the fight came and went, the events living sharply in the memory of those who witnessed the duel between the leader of the tribe and his daughter. The youngling had much to learn still, but she had at least proven that she wasn't afraid to face someone stronger than her. However, the tales of their fight would start to fade as curious items began to appear after water retreated into the ocean after the tide: pieces of plank wood, washed up on shore along with rope and fabric that were of a much more fine quality than that of the Merdhrai. There was enough of this debris to make it more than just some strange occurance, but there was no culprit to be seen: no collapsed buildings, or Mordhrai that went out at sea to test their luck. Not to mention the apparent age of these materials, though water made it hard to estimate such a thing. Either way, whatever the source was, it was likely to be found within the bay the otters called a home.

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